


Be A Light

by HinnyBellarkeSwan



Category: Captain America (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Bucky Loves Steve Rogers, M/M, POV Bucky Barnes, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Steve, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:09:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25103719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HinnyBellarkeSwan/pseuds/HinnyBellarkeSwan
Summary: A song on the radio make Bucky think, and that thinking leads to remembering, and what he remembers is Steve. He reflects on the man, their friendship, and his recovery. This takes place post-Winter Soldier.Based off of the song Be A Light by Thomas Rhett and co.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Clint Barton, James "Bucky" Barnes & Everyone, James "Bucky" Barnes & Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes & Peggy Carter, James "Bucky" Barnes & Sam Wilson, James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers, James "Bucky" Barnes & Tony Stark, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 11
Kudos: 17





	Be A Light

James Buchanan Barnes didn’t know much about himself, his past, or the world aside from what Hydra had spent decades brainwashing him to believe but the first time he heard a certain song on the radio he immediately thought of him. 

Steven Grant Rogers. 

The man that against all odds had not only survived sacrificing himself for the world, spending 70 years on ice, and the Winter Soldier himself; he had also reminded the Winter Solider that he was more than the Asset. That he was human. A flawed man that had once done everything in his power to serve his country and protect his friends. 

In this new world where Bucky was trying to learn Steve again, he could remember bits and pieces of the man Steve had been. The man he still was, no matter how different he claimed to be. The ice and waking up in 2012 may have changed some things about him, but there were somethings that were so Steve nothing would ever change them. 

Among them were his innate light, the spark that had drawn Bucky in like a moth all those years ago, that spark that only he had seen until Dr. Erskine came along. And even after, the world had only seen Captain America, not Steve. They still mostly did, and it pissed Bucky off to no end, but that was because Captain America was born from that very spark. From the passion and fire that made Steve so damn easy to follow. 

The Avengers saw it. It was Steve who kept them on track. Bucky hadn’t been living in the tower long, but he could see it. The ways in which that spark was drawing the Avengers in like moths to a lantern. Even Tony, who seemed hell bent on remaining aloof, above or apart from it all, was drawn in. 

Natasha was more human, more relaxed and at ease around Steve. She smiled and laughed, and they were so genuine you couldn’t doubt them. The ever-present weariness and shields she erected around herself at such a young age went away in Steve’s presence. Instead was the woman trying to atone for her past and keep her friends, her family, together. Steve helped with that. He was the glue that kept her new world together, helped remind her that there were other things out there besides the fight. 

Clint was drawn to it. To the steadfast belief that Steve shed on all his friends. The ever-present smile and the easy way he could clap a man on the shoulder and tell him he was a damn good solider. Steve reeled the archer in from the high vantage point he took with everything and softly showed him that the world didn’t have to be scary up close. Reminded him that Loki was gone and forgiveness was possible for the things the god made him do. 

Sam looked at Steve like Bucky thinks he used to. Like the man could hang the stars or craft poems and speeches and get the world to follow him if only they would stop and realize what he was trying to do for them. Sam was drawn to the innate similarities between them, the promise that Captain America presented, but more so, to the genuine and sometimes flawed man under all the red, white, and blue. He saw Steve, not just Captain America, but even he couldn’t claim to really know Steve, not the way Bucky himself did. However, he knew this new Steve, the one that woke up after seventy years on ice and had to reconcile his past, himself, with this new world.

Thor looked at Steve like an equal. Deferred to him even though he was a god and a prince in one. Listened to the quiet advice on adapting to a strange world and time with genuine interest and presented Steve with someone else in the same boat he found himself in after the ice, but who trusted Steve to lead, to know from trial and error what worked and what should be avoided. Who took a moment from the boisterous persona to pause and listen as the same innate ability to draw people in was used, not in a loud, gregarious voice, full of teasing and daring adventure in one. Instead in passion drenched but simply, softly but confidently spoken words. 

Tony to was drawn to the man under the myth. It was Steve who could drag him and Banner out of the lab. Who encouraged Tony to join the team for training, for the dinners and nights spent in the common floor watching movies and the togetherness. It was that spark that helped Tony to leave the darkness and lonely and really join in the team fun. It was Steve who rolled his eyes at every pun and every snarky come back but who still needled him back, pushed back at a man who spent too long in the spotlight and everyone acting like he was never wrong. It was Steve’s spark that inspired Tony to find a moral compass and stick with it. 

Dr. Banner was calmer and steady in his presence. The man’s ingrained nerves non-existent. There was an ease to their wandering talks that stemmed from Steve’s ability to set someone at ease if he so pleased. He could just as easily inspire the man to never give up, to be stubborn in the face of challenges, even one as large as the Hulk. Who never, never looked at Banner with fear, even if The Other Guy could kill the super solider so easily. 

Steve was their glue. His spark their guiding light and Bucky was no different. Hell, in many ways he was the first, all those years ago. Him and the Howlies, laying the groundwork for the team in front of him now. In many ways he was also new to this after seventy dark years. Steve was the promise of his past and a solid and steady guide for this future. An ally that would do whatever he could to make sure that Bucky never had to go back to Hydra, to killing senselessly. It was Steve that Bucky followed, not Captain America, then and now. 

So, when he heard the song on the radio for the first time he froze in place and saw Steve in every word. 

In a time full of war, be peace  
In a time full of doubt, just believe  
Yeah, there ain't that much difference between you and me  
In a time full of war, be peace

In a time full of war be peace? 

Steve had been reborn for war, but he had only ever been fighting those wars so that the world could be at peace. He had sacrificed a lifetime or two in the name of peace. Left the 40s with a plane crash, fought aliens and corrupt politicians and scientists for peace. 

In a time, full of doubt, just believe? 

Steve had been chalk full of faith and belief since he was small. He inspired others to have that same faith. In the 1940s, when they were at war facing Nazis and Hydra, Steve and his faith in them, the cause, and in peace had inspired the Howlies to be more than mere soldiers, more than returned POW’s. They had become their own brand of heroes, even without the serum that gave Steve an edge. And he never made them all believe any less than the fact that they were doing what was right, that faith in them and their goodness never wavering. It was something else that hadn’t changed after the ice. 

Steve sill had faith, it just looked different. Was far more subtle. He had faith in Natasha, in her desire to atone for her sins and be better. In Clint and his mission to be better than the man Loki had made him. Steve’s faith in Tony made the man strive to be better, made Tony decide to quit drinking and stick to it, and with Steve’s faith, slowly begin to pull it off. It was Steve’s faith in him that made Dr. Banner stay, not Tony’s tech and toys, but Steve’s faith that he was more than just a rage monster and a brilliant mind. It was that same faith that quieted Thor and made him want to keep coming back, keep saving a world that worshipped him on so many levels. 

It was Steve’s faith in Bucky, in James Buchanan Barnes and their friendship that had laid the Winter Soldier to rest. It had bridged the gap between the Asset and Bucky. That faith that promised no other opinion, no doubt, fear or reprisal. Only steadfast belief in the goodness that he thought Bucky still possessed. Steve’s faith meant he was never afraid of Bucky, even after the Asset had hospitalized him. He never wavered in his support and provided a shoulder to cry on, a place to shelter, and a healthy sparring partner to vent off steam when it all got to loud in his head. A quiet voice to tell him about his past and what was real and fake. A man with enough faith to gift Bucky with his art, the images of the people and places they had left behind that he could no longer picture.

In a world where Bucky had been molded, tortured and beat into the role of a perverted version of Captain America, the dark to Steve’s light, the ice to Steve’s fire, the moon to his sun, it was Steve who refused to see their differences, instead he focused on the ways they were so alike. Still in sync, even after so many years apart. 

Bucky was strong to. Had grown with his own serum to. Bucky could laugh and joke with Steve. He had a past that felt eons away from where he was now. Bucky had lost everything and everyone he knew as well. Hell, Steve tried to atone for every single loss they both suffered, took the burden of the guilt, took the loneliness for himself and shouldered it like damn Atlas. For Bucky and for the rest of his team because that’s who Steve was. 

A man facing a never-ending war and trying to find peace. 

In a world full of hate, be a light  
When you do somebody wrong, make it right  
Don't hide in the dark, you were born to shine  
In a world full of hate, be a light  
(La-la-la, la, la, la, la)

In the 1940s Steve had fought bullies and hatred alone in a back alley until Bucky would step in and end it, haul his dumbass out of the fire and give him a harbor in which to moor, to reset and recharge. That righteousness had driven him nuts, but it was and always had been so damn Steve that he could do nothing but watch his six while he took on all the bullies in their slowly growing world. 

By the time the war was on, it was no surprise that Steve wanted in. In a war against men who hated and discriminated and attacked the defenseless, Steve Rogers, the protector was ready made to volunteer, but the fools (thankfully) turned him down again and again until he allowed some scientist to experiment on him so he could do his duty. Suffered through USO shows and everything else to get to the front. Then he really got to fight the bullies and save Bucky and the 107th in the process. Then the world. 

In this new world Steve was still fighting against hate. Hydra had only gotten stronger and their brand of hate was branded into Bucky for the world to see in his arm and for Steve to see in the many ways he was different, but Steve still fought for him, against Hydra and everything they stood for. Had fought Loki’s hate for his brother, resulting in an alien invasion of New York, and he had only been “awake” for little over a few weeks. 

Sure, Captain America was a brilliant tactical mind and a damn one-man army, and selfless to boot, but he was also human. Steve had his fears, doubts, and angers just like any other man, but rather than let them sink him, he fought them and everyone else. 

Atlas through and through. For himself, for Bucky, for the Avengers, and for the world, Steve would take their burdens and make them his own. Would take their fears and their doubts and their nightmares and make them his own and try to fix it or shield from it. 

With that light, that desire to protect, fix and make right, Steve Rogers showed the world the difference between love and hate. Fear and faith. Hope and doubt. 

Steve hadn’t been born for war though, not really. Bucky remembered that even if Steve no longer felt like he could. He was born an artist, someone who could depict the world, shade it in, bathe it in light and let the world into his mind with his art. Watching him draw, many, many times, in their Brooklyn childhood, it was those drawings that told Bucky more than Steve ever did verbally. 

Steve’s art was the key to his mind and his heart. 

Steve could draw Captain America’s perfect tactical plans out to the tee and make them so clear and realistic that you had no doubt he believed they would work. Steve could take a person and show them how he saw them just by drawing them. He had done it for Bucky. For Bucky’s sisters and mother. For his own. Steve could draw the world around him and no matter how dark, always find the light. 

During the war, it hadn’t always been maps and battle plans. He had drawn Dum Dum in his bowler hat. Gabe and Frenchie on watch around a fire. Peggy with her fierce faith and her strength. Mortia with his eyes sparkling, Bucky with his head thrown back in a laugh, the changes in him after Azzano there, but muted in the face of the peace he found in their little band of warriors. 

The first time he had caught Steve at it now, in this weird and all so new future they found themselves in, he had frozen in place. The memories flooding back; Steve doodling in their old Brooklyn flat, on the front, anytime he could get his hands on supplies really. Now, watching Steve scribble an image of Nat in flight, Clint with his bow propped on his shoulder and a smirk on his face, Thor and his hammer, of Tony bent over a piece of his armor; Steve showed them how he saw them in ever stroke of the pencil. 

He showed Bucky how he still saw him. His face and appearance in general may have changed, but Steve never depicted that as bad. Instead, he penned his continued faith and care into the page. In the tiny spark in Bucky’s eyes, the crinkle around them when he really smiled, the small smirk he would make after sounding a little more like the old Barnes. 

All of it, Steve’s mind and heart there on paper for the world to see. 

In a place that needs change, make a difference  
In a time full of noise, just listen  
'Cause life is but a breeze, better live it  
In a place that needs a change, make a difference  
In a world full of hate, be a light  
When you do somebody wrong, make it right  
Oh, don't hide in the dark, you were born to shine  
In a world full of hate, be a light

The museum exhibit that had once jogged Bucky’s memory, given him temporary answers to all his big questions post the D.C. fight had been re-done, and some of the old pieces were given back to Steve, as well as many of the things they didn’t use. Some of which Steve donated to the National Archive, but others he kept. 

Among those things was Bucky’s old pack, because it had been among Steve’s army things and the Howlies and his sisters had decided it should stay that way apparently. There was also a stack of Steve’s sketchbooks and he had given most of the older ones to Bucky, to help him remember after he sheepishly asked. 

There in those pages was the history of Steve and Bucky. Before Hydra, Nazi’s and the damn war changed both their lives irrevocably. There was images drawn in Steve’s hand of his sisters, of both their mothers, of Ebbetts Field and Dodgers games, of old rooftops they used to haunt according to Steve, and many still life drawings of Brooklyn from the good old days. There is also many, many of him scattered throughout and he ignores the way his heart leaps at every image, even as he studies this old version of himself that was killed by war, torture, the serum, and Zola. 

In the very last one Steve had used back then, there is the Howlies. Every last one of them there for Bucky to stare at and see them how Steve must have. There is one of himself in his general uniform, the night he must have shipped out, and another of him in his Howlies gear. There are a few of Peggy Carter and all her glory. There are old drafts of field maps that Bucky ponders over to see if he could guess their old plans or remember (he could). 

In all of the things that Steve is given back, there isn’t a single image of him, which bothers Bucky. Sure, he remembers more about Steve Rogers than just about anything else in his life, but the image is always shaky, and he wants the physical proof to prove his mind’s eye true right there for him to see whenever he wanted without requiring a trip to D.C.

Steve doesn’t seem to mind, he just rolls his eyes the one time Bucky mentions it because he doesn’t realize that he draws people, like Bucky hadn’t been the first of many moths attracted to Steve’s flame. 

In Bucky’s old pack he had found one faded image that he kept a secret from Steve after that reaction. It was the old Steve, from before the war. It had to have been them not long before Bucky left for Europe because he’s in a uniform, though it’s not his Sergeant’s uniform. Must have been after Basic when he went home until his orders came. 

He has an arm swung over smaller Steve’s shoulders and they are both grinning at the camera and he marvels over the image at night for numerous reasons. Remembering all the things he used to feel (and still does feel) for this man in the image. 

Bucky marvels at the way he towers over Steve. Because now, Bucky is still taller, but it is a mere few inches rather than the dramatic difference from before. He marvels at the way Steve’s hair flops over his forehead, remembers the way his fingers used to itch with the desire to push it back and away from those brilliant blue eyes. Remembers tracking Steve’s hand as it did so a million times and wishing he could do it himself. 

He marvels at the easy grin on his own face in the image, the casual touches that are so much harder for him now but must have been commonplace back then. Bucky stares at the gleam he can see in the black and white image, the one in his eye that he knows means he had been about to make some joke or quip. Remembers wanting Steve’s smile to stay after being gone so often after his ma died and Bucky was drafted. 

Bucky remembers wanting to lean down and kiss the man, more times than he could count. Because in a world full of noise, he was and always had been Bucky’s quiet. He had given Bucky a soft and quiet place to land in the future to. 

A room with a giant California king bed, numerous soft blankets and pillows, hoodies and long sleeve shirts, a quiet floor. He had been so careful not to spook Bucky in the early days, had never gotten frustrated when he would suddenly lock himself in his room for hours (or days) on end. 

At Bucky’s askance, Steve had also started playing the quiet music they used to listen to, and let Bucky explore the new music he had taken a liking to since waking up. Hence the song that brought about all the memories of Steve whenever he heard it. 

Their lives may not be easy now, but they hadn’t been then either. No matter how much they both looked at the past with rose tinted glasses. This future was still full of hate and bullies, loud noise and drama. But Steve was his peace, his quiet, his sounding board. And the first person to think Bucky could be an Avenger. The first to encourage him to join the team and think he would make a great addition. 

That had meant so much to Bucky. The never ending faith. 

La-la-la, la, la, la, la  
La-la-la, la, la, la, la  
La-la-la, la, la, la, la  
La-la-la, la, la, la, la

There were many things about the here and now that told Bucky he still loved Steve, maybe even loved him more then he had before. The first was his never ending patience. Bucky would never be the man from Brooklyn again, the man from Steve’s memories, but Steve was endlessly patient with him while he became a different Bucky. One that was a blend of the asset, the solider, and the man from Brooklyn. Steve waited and helped and never pushed, never demanded Bucky be or do anything more. He just simply waited him out. 

The second was his offer of a sanctuary. Steve had opened his home (hos floor really) to Bucky and had let him explore and learn every corner, and then never minded when he paced it late at night, full of pent up agitation or restlessness. Steve had provided Bucky with the second master bedroom on his floor, the whole left side of his floor really, all for his use. The bedroom where he had often locked himself in the early days. The need to feel secure or feel like he was protecting Steve and the others from him and the ghosts and demons in his mind. The other small room that had been left to Bucky’s use had become his gym/ armory. 

There was one of both in the rest of Stark’s impressive tower, but this one was Bucky’s and again, satisfied another of his neuroses. With this room his weapons were close by and secure, no one but him and Steve had access. The reinforced punching bag and soundproofed walls meant that he could beat out aggression from nightmares in peace, without worrying about becoming a show for anyone else in the common gym. The whole floor became the place Bucky was the most comfortable, and even though the others had access, they were careful to warn him or have Jarvis ask before they came up. Steve and Sam were the only two who could get away with not announcing themselves. Steve because he lived here two and Bucky would never make him do that, and Sam because he would never make Steve’s best friend from this time feel like he had limited access to the man, and also because as much as Bucky was sometimes jealous of the guy, he was a good guy and helped Bucky with talking about things that had happened to him and never once telling another soul. 

The third of the many things that made him adore Steve more than he already had before war and Hydra had torn them apart was acceptance of all of Bucky’s sins. The Winter Solider had been very good at what he did. He had caused hurt and pain and death for a lot of people, but Steve didn’t care. He never looked at Bucky as anything other than his best friend. He never shied away from Bucky’s past, but he never acted like it was as horrible as it was. Bucky, on the days he felt endlessly guilty for the pain and the death and destruction, sometimes confided in his best friend and Steve always listened, never judged, and simply stated that Bucky was a good man at heart. A man that had been manipulated, tortured, and used. It may have been his hands that did all of that, but it wasn’t Bucky’s choice, it never would have been. It was Hydra’s choice and therefore, Hydra’s sin. 

The fourth thing that Bucky had come to adore about this new Steve was the family that came with him. Steve may have woken to this new world alone, but he hadn’t remained that way. He hadn’t allowed his losses to isolate him. His team, the Avengers, as messy as they were, were a family in their own way and they welcomed him. It hadn’t been easy, there had been deep mistrust and hurt on both sides of the line, but that hadn’t stopped Steve, and in the end, hadn’t stopped the others from making him feel at him. 

Clint was a fellow sniper, and in some ways could understand what Bucky had been through. What it felt like to be separated from your body and your actions by a thinck wall of glass as someone else controlled your mind and played around, and ordered you to hurt, to kill. Natasha was the other person who could understand. Her time with Department X in the Red Room had overlapped with his own and while she hadn’t remembered him at first, she did now, and he remembered her. They both had been used and abused, viewed as nothing but weapons for others to point and shoot and they could commiserate together about it. 

Sam was a compassionate ear and Steve’s right hand man these days. He and the super solider could always be found laughing and teasing one another. As hard as it had been for Bucky to watch at first, he could never hold it against Steve, and he had begun to form his own relationship with the paratrooper. The man was steadfastly loyal, a great listener, a vault for secrets, and could match Bucky snark for snark. The light teasing and their competition for Steve’s affection had become a running joke between them. 

Tony could also match Bucky’s witty banter. And after he had come to terms with his own brutal past and losses from Hydra, they had become tentative allies, and then slowly, friends. Once Tony realized that the man living in his tower was not the same one that had been ordered to murder his parents, and that that man had no choice but to do as ordered, didn’t know any different after so long, he had worked hard to let it go. He had opened his home to Bucky, and upgraded his arm, since the old one was littered with old failsafes for Hydra and far to heavy and clunky to last long without maitence. The new arm was so much lighter, and far superior to the last, and something that Bucky and Tony had worked on together once the mechanic learned that Bucky had actually, once upon a time, gone to college for an engineering degree. One he had never gotten to use thanks to the war. Upon that discovery, Bucky had also been welcomed to use one of Tony’s many labs as his own and there he found another sanctuary. 

Dr. Banner was something of an enigma, but Bucky was endlessly fascinated by the man. His tight control over the monster within him had drawn Bucky to him almost from the start and in some ways he could understand Banner’s split personality thing. There were days where he felt the soldier’s living, breathing, overwhelming presence and struggled to reign him in. Bruce offered quiet advice and a sympathetic ear, never judging and never afraid. He was another quiet ear and a vault that Bucky could talk to if he needed to. He had also been more than a little helpful in removing the triggers Hydra had placed in Bucky’s mind. 

Thor hadn’t been around often, for much of Bucky’s recovery. His duty to his own world often calling him away, or his lady friend, but he was his own brand of solider. One that could level with Bucky about what it meant to fight, to serve, to kill. He understood battle, understood loss and he had his own way of dealing with it. (Not to mention he could provide the only booze that could get him and Steve well and truly drunk.)

There were many things to love about Steve Rogers, things that the rest of the world either didn’t see, overlooked, or diminished in favor of Captain America. But Bucky would always be one of the few who could claim to see Steve Rogers. Could claim to follow him, not the Captain, could appreciate the man behind the shield. 

In a race that you can't win, slow it down  
Yeah, you only get one go around  
'Cause the finish line is six feet in the ground  
In a race you can't win, just slow it down

The song also reminded Bucky to live each day to the fullest, to live life the best he could because there was always the chance that death would come knocking. And Bucky had already outwitted death twice, there was no guarantee he would win another roll of the dice, so he was now trying to do exactly that. Because the lyrics were right, the finish line was six feet under. 

But Bucky had a promise to keep. The one that meant he was with Steve until the end of the line. If that meant being an Avenger, then he was one. If that meant being there for Steve when he had nightmares, then he would be. Bucky wouldn’t break that promise, not again. 

It was incredibly easy to keep that promise though. Because Bucky could admit, to himself at least, that he was deeply, irrevocably, madly in love with Steven Grant Rogers. Not just as friends, but so much more. He was also aware that he had been since the 1930s, but Brooklyn Bucky had never had the guts to admit it to a certain blonde. Pre-serum or post, it didn’t matter, Bucky adored Steve. 

Falling in love with Steve was easy, keeping his promise to him was easy. Being there for him was easy. Telling Steve he was in love with him? 

Now that was the scariest thing Bucky could think of doing. For a multitude of reasons. Winter Soldier or no, he was and always had been, terrified of telling Steve the truth. 

The blonde had given him shelter, a space in his home, unlimited support, a place in his family, and a place with the Avengers where he could work towards redeeming himself. How could he risk all of that by admitting that it was more than friendly, platonic love that he felt for his best friend? Especially when he knew his friend loved women. 

He remembered Peggy Carter. Remembered the way Steve had stared at her during the war. Remembered that he could actually talk to her, that he had flirted with her. Bucky had seen the way she had stared at him right back. Seen her flirt and talk to him to. Had heard from Steve himself that she had also been kind and caring to him before the serum made him look like he had always acted. As much as he had wanted to hat her for it, Bucky couldn’t. 

He knew what it meant to be drawn into Steve. Knew how it felt to see the heart of the man, the bravery and the strength of him and find himself adoring it. He knew how easy it was to love Steve Rogers. 

Telling him that now? In a world where Peggy could hardly remember him, and Steve seemed to be alone? In theory should be relatively simple, but in reality was so hard. But the song made Bucky want to. Made him want to admit it, want to find out if Steve could love him back. 

Wanted to pull him close and tell him all the ways this song and thousands of others made him think of Steve, wonder and marvel at Steve and his heart. 

In a world full of hate, be a light (oh)  
When you do somebody wrong, make it right (make it right)  
Don't hide in the dark (don't hide in the dark), you were born to shine  
In a world full of hate, be a light

After listening to the song for the millionth time since he heard it, and the endless thoughts and memories of Steve it dragged out of the abyss that was Bucky’s mind, he decided to take a stab at what he wanted most. 

He wanted to help Steve fight the hate of the world and be his shoulder to lean on when the fight got hard or tiring. He had done countless people wrong, and he wanted to fix it, and was working toward that with the Avengers, but he also wanted to be more than just the sum of his wrongs. Wanted to be remembered as more than just the Winter Soldier or Steve’s best friend. He wanted to be Steve’s boyfriend, maybe more. 

Bucky was tired of being afraid of the dark, afraid of letting Steve see the extent of his darkness. He was afraid that he had the potential to taint Steve’s light with his darkness, but there was also the chance that Steve’s lightness could help burn out Bucky’s darkness. Maybe curled against Steve’s side he could sleep through a full night without fearing the dark and the nightmares that come with sleep. Maybe he could have Steve to lean on in the dead of the night, someone to kiss away the blood and pain and fear. 

But in order to get there he had buck up and admit to Steve what it was that he wanted. And for all that Bucky wanted to be brave, he had no idea if he could be. 

Or he hadn’t. Until it all finally came to a proverbial head. In his head and in his reality. 

Steve came from a side mission from the re-built Shield, one that had only required him and Natasha, and the way he sagged against the door after closing it made Bucky’s heart clench. For all that Steve was a generous well of support for Bucky and the others, he often forgot to seek support for himself. He rarely asked for help, and never admitted easily when things got to him, when things were hard, or when he was struggling with something. 

Tonight, it looked like that was about to happen, and damn if Bucky was going to let the man he loved, his best friend, suffer in silence. 

“Stevie?” The blonde’s head shot up and deep blue eyes locked with his own ice blue. “Hey Buck.” Even his voice gave away how exhausted Steve was. “What happened?” Bucky stood up from the couch, tossing the remote he had been holding onto the coffee table and crossing to Steve. 

“Nothing Buck. It’s all good.” Bucky wasn’t buying what he was selling. Not when he looked like this. Blue eyes slightly hooded, hair disheveled, light bags under his eyes, but detectable to Bucky’s sniper eyes. ‘Bullshit. Come on Stevie. You know you can’t lie to me. What’s up?”

“Nat and I weren’t quick enough.” The words came out forced, harsh on an exhale. Followed by a deep inhale and then Steve’s eyes were no longer able to meet his own, but the words spilled out. “We were after Rumlow. He has a splinter group, trying to re-build Hydra, and Hill got a tip that they were targeting a cruise ship. We infiltrated the ship but before we could find and disarm the damn bomb, it blew and we couldn’t get everyone off. We lost ten and we didn’t get Rumlow or most of his crew. We know he lost a few, thanks to the five we did get, but it wasn’t enough.” 

Bucky’s heart clenched and without thought he reached out to clasp Steve’s shoulder. “Sometimes we can’t save everyone Stevie. I know it sucks, how hard that is to accept, especially now that we aren’t technically at war anymore, but it’s the cold hard truth. As for Rumlow, give me a week and I promise you I can find him and we can bring him in, make him pay for this and everything else the sick bastard has done.” 

Brock Rumlow would deserve a life in prison. Or to meet the end of Bucky’s sniper rifle, or his Glock, or his knife. Really, Bucky wasn’t picky. The man had watched as Hydra fucked with his head, had killed without thought and done it on his own volition, no mind control needed. He was a bastard that needed to be handled. 

Steve sighed. “Thanks Buck. Shield is tracking him, but I know Hill could use help. They are struggling for analysts at the moment.” Steve sill looked exhausted, and he still sounded heart broken. 

“Of course, Steve.” He tugged the man in for a small hug, because that was something they did sometimes. Always had, he remembered. Fond affection. Steve leaned into the contact, his body giving out on him. His forehead connected with Bucky’s shoulder, his go bag dropping from his hand, and his shield following. The slight thunk as it hit the ground echoed the small grunt Steve released in the wake of letting its metaphorical weight go. 

“It’s hard sometimes Buck. The world expects me to save everyone but I’m just one man, super solider or no and even I can’t always get them all. But they expect me to, and when the press finds out that two Avengers were on the scene in that port it’s going to get bad for a while.” 

Bucky fought back a growl, as he always had to do for things like this. For all that the serum had made Steve’s life easier, it had made it infinitely harder to. Near the top of that second list was the fact that the world expected him to be perfect, to never make mistakes, and to save every single person in need, no matter how ridiculous each of those demands was. 

“Ignore them Stevie. You did you best and if they can’t accept that sometimes you aren’t going to be able to save ‘em all, that’s their own problem. Ain’t no way you can, no way even the Avengers can win every fight. Not statistically possible.” 

“Thanks Bucky.” The words were mumbled into his neck, and he had to work very hard not to shiver at the ghost of Steve’s breath there, or the brush of his lips as he spoke. “Course Stevie.”

He froze altogether when the blonde brushed a kiss to his neck and buried his head further into it. Bucky had no idea what to do. Steve, however, seemed to know what it was he wanted. He looped both arms around Bucky’s waist, hauling him forward. 

“Nice to come home to you at least.” Bucky’s heart, already racing, took off at a full sprint. “Miss you when I’m gone.” Bucky melted. “Missed you to pal.” 

Steve suddenly stiffened, like he realized what he had said, what he was doing but as he did, Bucky relaxed. It was time, and maybe it wouldn’t bite him in the ass after all. 

“Steve?” Blue eyes framed by impossibly long lashes met his own and Bucky took a deep breath and then admitted what had been on his mind for months. “yeah Buck?”

Yeah, it's hard to live in color, when you just see black and white  
In a world full of hate, be a light

“You know that you can lean on me to right? I mean, you, uh, you’ve been a real pal about me leaning on you. You know you can do the same with me right? Because, well, you can.” Bucky knew he was stuttering, and he cursed Hydra internally again. He used to be so much better at this!

“Of course I do Buck.” Bucky gulped. “Good, cause I mean it. I want to help you Steve. You’ve helped me, a lot. I want to be the same for you, because,” he sucked in a deep breath and laid his heart at Steve’s feet. 

“Because I love you Steve. I think I’ve loved ya since the 30s, if I’m honest. I love your heart, your courage and I have since before Captain America existed.” 

Steve was staring at him, shock and something else, something he had never seen on this beloved face before, were clouding his eyes. “This, uh, doesn’t have to change anything pal. I just… I wanted to tell ya.” 

Steve’s body relaxed right back into Bucky who scrambled to hold him close, support his body weight. His little smile made the nerves in Bucky’s chest loosen. Something in him settling at the sight, because well at least he hadn’t run screaming. 

Steve searched his eyes, smile never dimming before he slowly leaned forward and Bucky caught on really quick. Hope took flight as he leaned in to meet him, and with the first brush of Steve’s lips against his own, Bucky sighed. His eyes slipped closed and he kissed Steve back with everything he had in him, nipping at his bottom lip and when Steve sighed, he twisted his tongue with Steve’s. The contact Bucky had always craved came from every point of them that pressed together, it was heaven. 

Steve backed away only far enough to suck in a deep breath and murmur just for Bucky. “I love you to Buck. Have for a long time, maybe I always have.” 

Bucky closed the gap again at that, initiating the kiss this time, his grin making it a tad sloppy, but Steve didn’t mind if his own smile was anything to go by. It was Bucky’s turn to sigh though, when Steve’s tongue ran along his bottom lip asking for entry. He granted it with that sigh and groaned at the eager way Steve’s tongue danced with his. 

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, Bucky’s body pinning Steve to the door, them kissing languidly, but when Steve gently stepped forward, forcing Bucky to step back, he got the hint. Without breaking their kiss, they began stumbling backwards, toward Bucky’s room and once there Bucky kicked the door shut, heart racing. 

As he pushed Steve gently onto his bed, the radio’s song switched, and Bucky broke their kiss with a laugh at the new beat. Steve stared up at him, kiss bitten, and lips swollen, confusion swirling in his eyes. 

“This song. It helped me remember how much I love you. You’re my light Stevie.” Steve’s answer was a bright grin, cheeks tinting pink with a blush, and he dragged Bucky back down gently with a hand fisted in his t-shirt. 

“You’re my light to Buck. Always have been.”


End file.
